


Wouldn't You Like to See Something Strange?

by impeccably_stressed



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: F/M, the nightmare before christmas au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 11:52:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16475048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impeccably_stressed/pseuds/impeccably_stressed
Summary: 'Twas a long time ago, longer now than it seemsIn a place that perhaps you've seen in your dreams.For the story that you are about to be toldBegan with the holiday worlds of old.Now, you've probably wondered where holidays come from.If you haven't, I'd say it's time you begun.





	1. Dramatis Personae

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meowsly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowsly/gifts).



###  **Cast:**

 

Nate Sewell ……………    _Jack Skellington_

Charlotte Greene ……     _Sally_

Adam du Mortain ……    _Santa Claus_

Ethan Murphy …………   _Oogie Boogie_

Rebecca ………………… _Dr. Finklestein_

Mayor Friedman………  _The Mayor_

with

Mason, Tina, and Felix as _Lock, Shock, and Barrel_

and

Orianna Moreau as _Mrs. Claus_

 


	2. Call Out for Something Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Songs:**   
>  _This Is Halloween_   
>  _Jack's Lament_

* * *

 

Deep within the dark of night, past the Meadow of Dreams, lies the Land of Fright, the birthplace of screams. In it is a single, winding path. The only sign hangs upon the scarecrow in the graveyard that keeps watch over the pumpkin patch. Following the road leads to a gnarled and twisted city, with towers like barren tree branches and hills like dead witch’s feet.

Halloween Town.

And every year, on a full moon night, moans and groans and screams and keens emanate from the sewers and graves and wells and lake and then…

Singing.

Songs about monsters and witches and vampires, and shadows and whispering voices and Pumpkin Kings. The voices echo through the walls of the city, grow louder and louder until you see it, a great fearmongering parade. Creatures of every stripe march down the single road to the town center, singing and chanting of how frightening they are.

They dance and sing in the moonlight hauling in the scarecrow on horseback until it shudders to life and grabs the nearest torch, sets its rags aflame. Their singing grows louder, more excited as the Pumpkin King licks them with flame, until finally it drowns itself in the well.

There is only a moment of silence before the Pumpkin King bursts up from the well and the crowd breaks into screams and applause.

“It’s over!” One monster cries.

“We did it!” Says another.

“Great Halloween, everybody!” Mayor Friedman cries using his happy face, and scurries through the streets, congratulating all the residents of Halloween Town, before coming to a stop in front of the Pumpkin King himself.

“I believe it was our most horrible yet,” Nate Skellington says enthusiastically, running his hands to restyle his hair and fix his bowtie. “Thank you everyone!”

“No, thanks to _you_ , Nate,” Mayor Friedman says, waving his hands effusively. “Without your brilliant leadership—”

“You’re such a scream, Nate!” Someone calls from the crowd, pushing past the mayor.

“A witch’s fondest dream!” Says another, startling the mayor.

“You made walls fall, Nate,” another one says dreamily, popping up from the fog, and attempts to climb up his leg.

“Please, please, it was a group effort,” Nate says, chuckling nervously. He subtly tries to pry the woman off his leg without offending her. “It couldn’t have been done without everyone’s input— _please, your nails are digging_ —and cooperation!”

But Nate Skellington’s modesty is drowned out by the crowding residents who wash him with more praise, taking ever more steps closer to be the one to grab his attention and receive a stunning smile.

 

* * *

 

Far beyond the edge of the crowd, peering from behind the Hanging Tree, is a rag doll twiddling her hair as she watches Nate deal with the crowd with as more grace and patience than she’s ever seen in her life.

A child climbs up the fountain and jumps down onto Nate’s back, who merely bellows in surprise, “I see someone is practicing for next year!”

Everyone laughs at that and she feels bold enough to join them, expecting her own laughter to fade with the voices beyond, but Nate suddenly turns his head to her direction, and she recoils, stepping backward into the shadows cast by the curved walls of the town before he can actually see her.

And right into the waiting grip of her mother, Dr. Rebeccastein.

“Charlotte,” her mother says in her most commanding voice. “What have I told you about giving me deadly nightshade?”

“To…give you double the dosage?” Charlotte asks and laughs nervously when her mother’s frown deepens.

Rebecca clasps Charlotte’s hand in her own, grimacing at the still-gushing townsfolk. “Darling, you’re not ready for this much excitement.”

Charlotte pulls at her mother’s vice-like grip. “Yes I am!”

“What if you had run right into the parade? What if you had run into Jack while he was aflame?” She frowns at the starry-eyed look her daughter makes when she hears that. “Charlotte, you’re made of fabric and leaves, you could have gotten hurt!”

“But I didn’t!” She whines, still tugging her arm. “Look, I’m in one piece!”

Right as she says those words, the string holding her arm to her torso gives and Charlotte falls backward, armless, onto the ground. Both she and her mother groan at the force of their fall, but Charlotte recovers faster. She looks at her mother already pulling herself onto her wheelchair, still holding Charlotte’s arm.

Charlotte wills it to reach to her stomach and tickle it, causing her mother to fall over with laughter.

“Don’t worry, mother, I’ll be home before dawn!” Charlotte calls and runs off toward the cemetery.

 

* * *

 

 

Back at the town center, the more…passionate residents have been backing Nate up against the town walls, saying things about oozing things and crawling flesh and—

“Thank you, truly,” he says, feeling his stomach drop at the feeling of the cool stone against his fingertips, “but you truly give me too much credit!”

“Oh, Nate!” One of them cries, but is interrupted by the mayor—his savior—announcing the Halloween prize winners.

As soon as they turn their heads, Nate starts slinking quietly against the wall, ducking into the shadows they cast.

“Our first award goes to the vampire for most blood drained in a single evening!” Mayor Friedman calls out. By the time the mayor continues, Nate’s long legs have carried him far enough away that he can’t even hear the murmur of the crowd.

When he finally can’t even hear the mayor’s voice clearly through the speaker system, he lays against the wall and heaves a sigh, rubbing at his eye sockets and cheekbones.

He turns at the sound of soft music playing, and smiles wanly when he sees the street players, tossing them a coin.

“Nice work,” one of them says as Nate strides past, rubbing at his neck.

“I suppose so,” Nate says. “Just like last year,” he sighs. “And the year before that…and the year before that.”

He pauses for a moment, waiting for the crooked gates to the cemetery squeak open for him, but his eyes are glued to the cobblestone floor.

 

* * *

 

 

Deep within the graveyard, Charlotte fusses over her lost arm.

“What am I even going to do until dawn with only one arm?” She muses, pushing leaves back up what remains of her bicep, then tries tightening what’s left of the thread that held her arm together so nothing more spills out.

But she pulls the thread tight enough to snap at the sound of the cemetery gates creaking open, and she stumbles behind an especially large gravestone. She peers over the edge, hoping to see anyone but her mother just so her heart will stop hammering, but it’s in vain when she sees Nate Skellington himself shuffling through the graves and she squeaks in surprise.

Nate lifts his head and looks in her direction just as Charlotte dives behind the gravestone to hide.

“Zero,” he calls out softly, patting his thigh.

To Charlotte’s left, a ghost dog stretches out from his grave, his little red nose glowing with happiness. He then begins yipping and chasing his ghostly tail before catching up to Nate, who smiles weakly at him, and begins walking down the path.

That’s when she finally notices the sagging of his shoulders, weariness in his face. Frowning, she stands up to leave in order to give him privacy, but then the wind carries his voice to her ears and she can’t help but turn around and listen.

“When it comes to surprises in the moonlit night I excel without ever even trying,” he says to the gravestones, listing his frightful accomplishments, but at the last gravestone he has nowhere else to speak to but the moon hanging over Spiral Hill. “Yet year after year, it's the same routine,” he sighs, “and I grow so weary of the sound of screams.”

And then, as he walks up Spiral Hill… _he sings._

“ _Oh, somewhere deep inside of these bones, an emptiness began to grow_.” He clutches at his ribcage, lamenting to the full moon. “ _There's something out there, far from my home, a longing that I've never known._ ”

Charlotte follows him, hiding behind tombstones as she watches him.

“I'm a master of fright, and a demon of light,” he begins, trying to list his accomplishments again, but soon loses his bluster and confidence. “If they only understood, he'd give it all up if he only could…”

He inhales and sings again.

“ _Oh, there's an empty place in my bones, that calls out for something unknown_ ,” he takes a step forward, and Charlotte nearly calls out, warning him of the drop at the end of Spiral Hill, but can only gasp when the hill unfurls itself at his very steps.

Nate stops, looks around him until he faces the Woods of the Unknown. When he steps forward into the darkness of the trees, Charlotte has to hold her tongue.

After all, what could she say?

_“‘_ Oh, heya Nate! So I heard everything you said—trust me I wasn’t stalking you—but I totally understand you!’” She says mockingly to herself, then takes one of the leaves from her arm and crumbles it between her fingers. “Stupid,” she says.

The bits of leaf are carried away in the wind, like the cloud that suddenly overtakes the moon and plunges the graveyard into darkness.

Charlotte sighs, looking back the woods then down at her missing arm.

She stands up, making her way back toward her mother’s laboratory.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow [my personal tumblr](http://impeccably-stressed.tumblr.com/) if you like memes, foxes, raccoons, and shitposting.
> 
> Follow [my art tumblr](http://impeccably-stressed-art.tumblr.com/) if you like the occasional art as well as fic updates.
> 
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